


With These Hungry Eyes

by wingsyouburn



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Artist Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes Is a Good Bro, Bucky Barnes as comic relief, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Minor Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, Minor James "Bucky" Barnes/Darcy Lewis, Not Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie) Compliant, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, T Shows Her Age Songfic Challenge, meet cute, t6ksongfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2020-01-07 00:14:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18399227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wingsyouburn/pseuds/wingsyouburn
Summary: Wild Billy’s Barbeque was more of a dive than anything else, tucked in a small corner lot ten blocks from the Avengers’ Tower. The kind of place where the finish had worn off the tables, the condiments came in squeeze bottles, and the food was so good, Guy Fieri would want to eat there.(Yes, Steve watchedDiners, Drive Ins, and Diveslate at night with Bucky when neither of them could sleep, and Food Network was fond of reruns. He had not, however, thought his best friend would get so involved in watchingChoppedthat he once threw a knife into the TV and had to replace it before Tony found out.)Most of all, Steve liked the fact that he could slip in, snag a table in the back, and grab a sandwich without anyone bothering him. Those moments of peace, of being able to feel something close to normalcy, was all Steve needed. No one ever knew where he snuck off to - his own little sanctuary. He didn’t think it could get any better.And then he noticedher.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written as part of ~tilltheendwilliwrite's 6k T Shows Her Age Song Challenge. Congrats on 6000 followers, T! My song was "Hungry Eyes" by Eric Carmen, and, well... we may have gotten a long ways away from the original song, but I like where this story ended up. This fic assumes that all the Avengers are living happy and well in Avengers Tower in New York and that SHIELD isn't a HYDRA front. For reasons.
> 
> Also much love to ~mywildestdreamings for the lovely beta!

Wild Billy’s Barbeque was more of a dive than anything else, tucked in a small corner lot ten blocks from the Avengers’ Tower. The kind of place where the finish had worn off the tables, the condiments came in squeeze bottles, and the food was so good, Guy Fieri would want to eat there. 

(Yes, Steve watched _Diners, Drive Ins, and Dives_ late at night with Bucky when neither of them could sleep, and Food Network was fond of reruns. He had not, however, thought his best friend would get so involved in watching _Chopped_ that he once threw a knife into the TV and had to replace it before Tony found out.) 

Most of all, Steve liked the fact that he could slip in, snag a table in the back, and grab a sandwich without anyone bothering him. Those moments of peace, of being able to feel something close to normalcy, was all Steve needed. No one ever knew where he snuck off to - his own little sanctuary. He didn’t think it could get any better. 

And then he noticed _her._

She always worked the lunch rush, blonde hair pulled into a messy bun, apron tied low around her waist. Like all of the other staff, she dressed casually, in jeans and a faded black tee with the restaurant’s logo on it, but she moved with a sway and a grace he swore he’d never seen before. When she spoke, her words drawled slow and sweet like honey, and her eyes were the bluest of blues.

Steve told himself he wasn’t going to stare. That it was rude, and uncouth, and the lady deserved better. But he still came out here once a week whenever he could, taking what he came to think of as his table. After a while, he started bringing his sketchbook, and it didn’t surprise him when all his drawings turned into sketches of her. 

Specifically, her eyes. He tried to capture the longing he saw, the desire. He never caught her glance more than once or twice, but she seemed to know he was watching her, and, more than that, Steve didn’t think she minded either. She always gave him a smile and a wink, and all it did was encourage him to keep coming back to see her again, even if he didn’t say anything to her. 

It took five visits before she was his server. She smiled as she made her way over, pen tapping against her pad. “What’ll it be, darlin’?” she asked. 

He hadn’t bothered to look at the menu, seeing as he got the same thing every time. “The pulled pork sandwich, please, with a side of fries.” 

“You got it. You want coleslaw too?” 

“Nah. Not gonna eat it.” 

She laughed, and he swore her eyes sparkled more as she looked him over. “I like a man who’s honest. I’ll have it right out for you.” 

Though he told himself he wasn’t being lewd, he still watched as she walked away, pausing two tables over to check on an older couple who already had their food. Her comments to them seemed just as friendly and efficient, refilling the gentleman’s coffee and clearing away the woman’s empty plate. She still glanced back at him, though, and Steve had been with enough women to know when he was being checked out. All the times he’d been here, she definitely didn’t check out any of her other customers.

So he grinned, not shying away from her approving looks, and watched her disappear into the back of the restaurant. He opened his sketchbook to a clean page while he waited, not focusing too much on the drawing. By now Steve could sketch her face from memory, always starting with her eyes and working his way out from there. Art was a skill that comforted him, and he didn’t create with the intention of showing it off; this was for Steve and Steve alone. Sometimes Bucky flipped through his work, because he was the only one who knew it existed, and realized what it meant to Steve. If Bucky realized that Steve was drawing the same woman over and over again, he hadn’t said anything to him yet.

He was imagining what she might look like with her hair down, trying to get the curls to fall over her shoulder the way he wanted them to, when she returned with his plate in hand. “Don’t want to disturb the artist at work,” she said, setting his food beside his sketchbook. “You need anything else? Another round, maybe?” 

“One more would be great.” It wasn’t like Steve was driving and it took a lot to get him drunk these days anyway. Setting his pencil inside to mark his spot, he closed up the sketchbook and set it aside to focus on the food. “Thank you.” 

“Ain’t no trouble.” She turned to leave, then spun on her heel with more grace than he’d noticed before. “She must be very lucky.” 

“Who?” 

“The girl you’re drawing. I always notice the sketchbook you bring with you whenever you come in. Lots of different pieces in there.” 

Steve smiled, not wanting to admit that she was the one he’d been fascinated with sketching. “Perhaps,” he said. “Or maybe she has no idea the muse she’s sparked within me.” He didn’t want to be creepy, he didn’t want to make things uncomfortable for either of them. But the way she looking at him now, eyes sparkling like she might snatch that sketchbook out of his hands and take a look for herself, had his heart skipping a beat. 

“Definitely lucky then,” she drawled, winking at him. “Be right back with that refill.” And then she was gone again. 

The rest of the meal passed quietly. The food was good, which Steve already knew, but his server didn’t come back over again. The restaurant was starting to get busy with the afternoon rush, and Steve knew he couldn’t stay much longer anyway. Still, he didn’t want to leave without knowing he might be able to see her again, and the worst thing she could do was turn him down. 

When she returned with his check, his plate was clean and neatly stacked to the side, along with his empty beer bottle. He smiled as she approached, and he swore there was more bounce in her step. “Anything else for the road?” she asked, giving him the once over again, and he wondered if she was going to ask if he too was on the menu. 

It was now or never. “What’s a guy got to do in order to get your number?” 

“Sorry.” She shrugged, though that mischievous grin didn’t leave her face. “Ain’t gonna give my number out to random guys who get lunch here.” 

“Then what about your name?” 

She ducked her head, fluttering her eyelashes. “Tip well and maybe I’ll think about it.” With that, she left the check upside down on the table and sashayed away, hips moving in time with the music coming from the kitchen. 

Steve didn’t hesitate, pulling out a crisp $100 bill and leaving it underneath his empty beer bottle, check on top. It didn’t matter how much the bill was, since the prices hadn’t changed and she was worth every penny, but he did take a peek at the bill anyway. There, scrawled at the bottom, were the words _"Thanks! - Julianne"_ in a swirly, feminine script. 

Grinning to himself, he grabbed his pencil and wrote a message back to her: _"Thank you for the great service - Steve."_ Julianne - the name rolled off his tongue, more intoxicating since he hadn’t known it for so long. 

She was with another table as he passed by, and Steve gave her a wave before heading out the door. He’d be back to see her, as soon as he could sneak away from the Tower again. And he was already looking forward to next time.


	2. Chapter 2

Six visits later, Bucky finally figured out where Steve snuck off to in his free time. 

“So this is where you’ve been hiding,” Bucky said, sliding into the seat across from Steve like he’d been expected all along. “You’ve been a hard man to find some days.”

Steve snorted. “No, I’m not.” His phone was still on in case of a world-ending emergency, but until then, he was going to enjoy the rest of his sandwich. “You followed me.”

“Of course I did.” Not like he could have really stopped Bucky, nor was Steve hiding things from him. Sometimes Steve needed a place to escape to, a place where even his best friend coudln’t find him, and Bucky wouldn’t fault him for that. And Bucky would not be ashamed of following him, either. Bucky cast his eyes around the restaurant, taking in the rustic decor. “Does seem like your kind of place though. Food good?” 

He swatted away Bucky’s hand - the metal one - as he tried to steal a fry. “You could get your own, you know.” 

“It’s more fun when it’s yours.” The telltale click of boots on wood had both super soldiers turning their heads to see Julianne approaching. “And cute staff, too.” 

If Julianne heard anything Bucky said, her face didn’t give it away. Every time he came in now, Julianne was his server. Maybe it was the fact that he always tipped well or that he always sat at the same table. Steve knew he came here to flirt with her more so than he needed to get a good meal. Even now, she glanced over at Bucky, but turned her attention back to Steve. “Stevie! You didn’t tell me you were gonna be bringing a friend.” 

“Someone invited himself along,” he said. “Buck, this is Julianne. Julianne, my oldest friend in the world, Bucky.” 

“Pleasure is all mine.” Steve had seen this look on Bucky’s face before and knew exactly what it meant as he smirked up at Julianne and offered her a hand to shake. Even when Bucky had a girlfriend waiting for him in the Tower, everyone knew he was still a bit of a flirt. His Darcy happened to like it, and Steve was used to it by now. Julianne just raised an eyebrow, and Steve fought his smile behind a sip of beer. 

“Y’all want something else to eat?” she asked instead. “Another round, maybe?” 

“I’ll have what he’s having,” Bucky said, gesturing to Steve’s plate. “No need to bring over a menu.” 

“And drinks sound good,” Steve added, smiling at her. “Thanks, Julianne.” 

“Anything for you, Stevie.” She patted him on the shoulder, and then left to punch in their orders. 

Thankfully Bucky waited until Julianne was out of earshot before saying anything. “Stevie?” he repeated. “Someone’s got it bad.” 

Steve shrugged. “It’s a nickname. We each get a new one from Stark on a weekly basis, so it’s not like it’s a big deal.” And he was here, at Wild Billy’s, on a weekly basis. He still hadn’t gotten Julianne’s number, but he knew she was from Texas, that she had once trained to be a ballet dancer, and while waiting tables was fine and all, she wanted to dance professionally someday. Until then, Steve was happy to watch her move to her own rhythm as she helped her tables.

“Uh-huh. And the puppy dog look in your eyes when she walks over is just a coincidence.” 

“Fuck off, Barnes.” 

Reaching over, Bucky grabbed Steve’s sketchbook and started thumbing through the pages, whistling under his breath. “Your work’s getting better,” he said. Bucky would know, having watched Steve’s art evolve over the years as he scribbled on whatever paper he could find, back in that cold apartment in Brooklyn. This sketchbook, however, was one Bucky hadn’t seen before, so all these drawings were new. “And you clearly have a muse. I can see why you’d be so inspired.” Bucky glanced over at Julianne at the far end of the bar, and only his eyes moved, so no one else but Steve would notice. “Does she know?” 

Dipping his fry into some ketchup, Steve shook his head. “Knows I draw when I come here, though.” 

“Fair enough.” Bucky stopped at one page, a close up of Julianne’s face, a sketch where Steve had been trying to capture the look in her eyes. “She’s intense, isn’t she.” 

“Stay a while and you’ll see.” 

There was no one in this world Steve trusted more than Bucky. Yes, he trusted his team to have his back in battle, with plans and secrets and all sorts of things. But they weren’t his best friend. They weren’t there when the coughing would come so bad that Steve worried he’d hack his lungs right out of his chest, or to rescue him from the bullies who would beat him to a pulp in the back alley. Bucky knew all of him, and while he was still working through his own issues, Steve was beyond glad to have him back in his life again. He also knew that Bucky would not reveal this place, to anyone, without Steve’s permission. It would remain his sanctuary - with a guest every now and then. Steve could live with that. 

Julianne brought over their beers, and it would be a few more minutes before Bucky’s sandwich was ready. With his food mostly done, Steve moved his plate to the side and took his sketchbook back from Bucky, opening to a clean page. “Really?” Bucky asked. “I’m sitting right here.”

“I can draw and talk to you too.” 

“Yeah, but not very well.”

He laughed, looking up for Julianne again. She was with another table, but her posture was all wrong. Her back was straight, shoulders pulled back, clearly defensive. Steve shifted in his seat, catching Bucky’s eye and gesturing to the table with a nod of his head. Bucky turned slightly, the move so subtle Steve almost missed it, and he knew the other soldier was listening in too. 

The man was alone at the table, and he was laying it on thick. When Julianne asked what he wanted to order, he gave her a grin that creeped Steve even from across the room, like this guy would enjoy luring women out of safety so he could stuff them into the back of his trunk. “Oh, I’ll have whatever the house special is,” he said, “especially if you’re on the menu.” 

“In your dreams,” Julianne said, her smile forced, jaw clenched. “One house special, coming up.”

“I’m sure I could convince you otherwise. I promise I’d make it worth your while.” The man reached over to caress her thigh, and both Steve and Bucky were already moving to get out of their seats. 

Julianne snapped. Her pad fluttered to the ground as she grabbed the arm he dared to touch her with, twisting it back until the man cried out in pain. A stiletto knife appeared in her other hand, a little bigger than a pocketknife, and she pressed it against the man’s throat. “Fucking try that again and I’ll slit you clean open,” she snarled, eyes flashing with fury. For a tiny woman, one would assume she didn’t have the nerve, or the gall, to keep a blade on her person. For Steve, it was only another level to the intriguing woman he was starting to know. 

“Jules!” the bartender shouted, and the rest of the bar went silent.

“You fucking bitch-”

Bucky got there first and grabbed the man by the back of the neck with his metal hand, cutting off whatever he was about to say next. Julianne let go of his arm, and Bucky let him dangle, feet a few inches from the floor. “This ain’t none of your business,” the man finally spat out, and Bucky hoisted him higher. 

“Don’t worry,” Bucky said, “I’ll let her cut you. And when she’s done, what I’ll do to you will be far worse.”

Steve moved to Julianne’s side, laying a gentle hand on her free arm. When she spun around, he closed the blade back into its handle and pressed it into her hand. “He’s not worth it,” he murmured. 

“I don’t need you to stand up for me,” she said, those eyes turning in his direction, and his heart beat a little harder in his chest. 

“No, you don’t, but you can let us take out the trash.” Steve gestured with his head towards the door. “Buck? Escort our friend out.”

There was a bit of the Winter Soldier in Bucky’s eyes as he smiled. “Don’t mind if I do.” 

No one stopped Bucky as he hauled the man out of the restaurant, though the man flailed and thrashed. Steve turned Julianne away from the door, knowing Bucky wouldn’t follow through on his word while she was watching. “Can you get her something to drink?” he asked the bartender, guiding her back to his table in the back. 

Julianne let him, though she also kept a good grip on her knife. This was something she felt the need to do often, and he could tell. Steve’s heart tightened at the thought that she would need to go to such lengths to defend herself. “I don’t need to be coddled,” she said, looking down at the table. “I’m fine.” 

“This isn’t coddling,” Steve said. “Just giving you a minute to breathe, that’s all.” He slid into the booth across from her, nodding to the girl who brought over a tall glass of water for Julianne. 

“I gotta bring your friend’s food out in a minute.” 

“Don’t worry about that. Buck’ll eat just about anything. Even if it’s cold.” 

That much, at least, got her to crack a half a smile. “Boys are like that.” Julianne blew out a breath before finally meeting Steve’s eyes. “Men are shit, Stevie. Ain’t like any of ‘em got any idea of what it’s like to be all alone in the big city. And they all think they can treat you however the fuck they want. Take whatever the fuck they want. I thought…” She shook her head. “I thought it would get better when I left home. Turns out it’s strangers who still want the same thing.” 

The world hadn’t changed as much as he thought when he first came out from under the ice. The same demons were still there, only in different clothes and different words with the same intent behind them. Steve hadn’t liked it as a scrawny kid in the 1940s and he sure as fuck didn’t like it as Captain America in the new millenia either. Until society got its head out of its collective ass, he would continue to do as he had always done, and that was to take care of those around him and inspire others to do the same. 

“I think,” he said, softly, “that we as a society have lost sight of what it means to be a decent human being. It’s not a reflection on you in any way, but on him and his fucked up sense of right and wrong.” Steve knew he was biased, considering that he thought the world of Julianne, but wasn’t about to say it. This moment wasn’t about him and his feelings; he wanted to focus on her. “You have every right to pull a knife on him and put him in his place. I hope you’ll never have to do it again, but I fear I’ll be wrong in that regard.” 

“Probably. You’re quite the optimist.” She didn’t look up at him, though he wasn’t sure if she believed his words or not. Depending on how rough a life she had, Steve could understand if such words would sound hollow, but he truly believed them. 

“Someone has to be, these days. Though if I might make a suggestion?” 

Her eyes flashed at him, but she didn’t pull away from his hand as he took hers in his much larger one, turning it over to gesture to the blade she still held. “This is a stiletto. It’s designed more for stabbing than slashing,” he said. 

“Aren’t all knives meant to stab things?” 

“Yes, but the quickest way to a man’s heart is through the fourth and fifth rib.” Steve gestured on himself, not once worried that she’d turn that blade around on him. He hadn’t done anything to betray her trust, and he knew how important it was to her that the knife stayed in her hands. “And stomach wounds hurt like a bitch. Use your weapon to your best advantage.” As much as he never wanted Julianne to need to, he’d rather she was prepared for whatever might happen. 

Julianne stared at him for a moment longer, going from disbelief to acceptance and back to disbelief again. “For a second there I thought you were gonna try to take my knife away.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” 

They were still sitting like that, across from each other with Steve’s hand almost in hers, when Bucky returned. “Don’t need to worry about that guy anymore,” he said, flashing Julianne a grin. “I don’t think he’ll be coming back any time soon.” Of course, when Bucky smiled like that, Steve wondered what Bucky might have done to ensure that, and then decided he’d rather not know. “You okay, kid?” 

She scoffed, then blew out a breath. “I’m not a kid. But yeah. Doin’ alright. Stevie made sure of it.” 

The grin on Bucky’s face grew more infectious. “I’m sure he did. He’s great at that.” Another server came up behind him, and he spun around to see the girl holding out a plate with his sandwich and fries. “And there’s food! Thanks, doll.” He winked at her, and the other girl blushed from head to toe before scurrying back into the kitchen. 

“I should go.” Julianne was up from her seat and moving before Steve could say anything, tucking a lock of blond hair behind her ear. “I’ll bring y’all the bill in a few.” 

The rest of their meal passed uneventfully. Bucky focused on eating while giving Steve that look, the one that said his best friend knew he was head over heels and in some serious trouble if he didn’t do anything about it. Steve tried to draw, but nothing was coming out to his liking, so he set his sketchbook aside and finished his beer instead. 

This time, when the bill arrived - with Bucky’s sandwich somehow missing from the total - Julianne’s phone number was scrawled along the bottom in place of her usual ‘thank you.’ 

And, as he did every visit, he wrote her a message back, leaving his own phone number in exchange.

***

When Steve couldn’t make it to the restaurant for his weekly lunch, texting Julianne quickly became his new pick-me-up. It was easier to talk via text than face to face, and she seemed to open up more with every message they exchanged. He never thought of himself as being chatty, or relying too much on modern technology, but he couldn’t help but think of it as the best invention he’d seen in a long time.

She told him about growing up on a ranch in Texas, how her family raised horses and that she was poor at being a farmhand. It was the direct opposite of how he’d grown up in Brooklyn and he wanted to press her for stories, but even through text message, he got the impression that her homelife wasn’t something she wished to dwell on. Julianne had run away from home in order to chase a dream, and that led her to New York City. Waiting tables wasn’t exactly what she wanted to do forever, but in her own words, “everybody gotta start somewhere.” 

In turn, Steve told her what stories he could about growing up with Bucky in Brooklyn, slightly edited so he didn’t have to mention that he had grown up in the first half of the 20th century, not the second one. It felt a bit like lying, though it wasn’t really; after all, Julianne didn’t know who he really was: Steve Rogers, _the_ Captain America, with all of the weight and responsibility that came with it. He wouldn’t blame her if she looked at him differently than when she saw him as Stevie, the guy who tipped well and enjoyed her company. 

He’d have to tell her. Steve knew that. And yet, that couldn’t be a conversation they had over text messages, or even in a phone call. In the moment, he wanted to keep living this dream, where he could be himself and not worry about everything else in his life. 

More than once, Steve thought about calling Julianne. Especially when he laid alone at night staring at the ceiling, knowing what dreams would await him, and wondering if he could ask her to come out with him. Didn’t matter where they went, to the clubs Sam told him about, or out drinking with Bucky, and to any restaurants that Tony would recommend. In those moments, he took out his sketchbook instead, remembering her hungry eyes, the way she looked at him like she’d devour him whole, and he sighed to himself. 

His phone lit up with a new message. 

_**[Julianne]:** hey you. you still up? _

_**[Steve]:** Not asleep yet. Everything okay? _

_**[Julianne]:** just thinking about you. been a long night_

_**[Steve]:** Anything I can help with? _

_**[Julianne]:** not unless you can pay my bills and make the assholes at my night job go away_

_**[Steve]:** I mean, I know a guy_

_**[Julianne]:** bucky?_

_**[Steve]:** He’d be willing. I might even come with him ;) _

_**[Julianne]:** is that a promise? _

_**[Steve]:** Do you want it to be? _

Steve held his breath as he looked at the screen, watching the three little dots that said Julianne was typing a message. If she turned him down, he tried to tell himself it wasn’t a big deal, that he’d see her again whenever he came to grab a bite to eat. He just didn’t want to wait that long. 

_**[Julianne]:** you know i always like getting to see you, stevie_

_**[Steve]:** With or without Bucky?_

_**[Julianne]:** without. obviously_

_**[Steve]:** That’s what I thought.  
**[Steve]:** Are you working tomorrow? I could meet you at the restaurant?_

_**[Julianne]:** stevie, you asking me out on a date?_

_**[Steve]:** yes?_

_**[Julianne]:** i think i might like that_

Her response had him grinning like a maniac, pumping his fist at this little victory. 

_**[Steve]:** I’ll shoot you a text when I’m on my way over. Probably after the lunch rush?_

_**[Julianne]:** sounds perfect_

Though it was late, the smile on his face didn’t fade as he finally set his phone aside. His relationship with Julianne was something he didn’t ever want to take for granted. Every little step they took forward felt like a hard-earned victory, always going at her pace, and he respected the fact that she wanted to take things slow. Maybe she felt comfortable enough with him to be open to the prospect of something more. Whatever came next, they’d take it one day at a time. 

That night, Steve dreamed of running his fingers through Julianne’s hair, of those eyes focused on him and him only, of what her kisses might taste like. Maybe, if he was good, he’d find out on their date.


	3. Chapter 3

The universe, of course, had other plans. 

Steve got up early, showered, shaved, paced his apartment in the Tower to kill time, when his phone went off. He knew what that particular ringtone meant. They weren’t calling Steve Rogers - they needed Captain America. 

So Captain America he became.

As he made his way down to the hangar to suit up, he sent a quick message to Julianne: 

**_[Steve]:_ ** _Just had a work issue pop up and I’m not going to make it for lunch. Raincheck on that date? I still really want to see you._

He fought back the bile in the back of his throat as he set his phone to silent and tucked it away. He wasn’t lying to her, not really, but there were a lot of things he wasn’t saying. Missions were dangerous, and though he tried not to think about it, there was always a chance that he wouldn’t make it back for that date. 

Just like he never made it back to dance with Peggy, all those years ago.

Steve shook off the memories and focused on the task at hand. HYDRA agents had been operating out of a shady nightclub in one of the darker parts of the city, and the goal was to take the agents into custody without resorting to violence. Natasha and Clint went ahead first, undercover, and Steve and Bucky were to act as backup should the mission take a turn for the worst. 

Of course, sitting on the quinjet and listening to the comms only made things worse. Taking the quinjet at all seemed like overkill, but if they wanted to get somewhere quickly, New York traffic would hold them back every single time. So the quinjet it was, parked in an abandoned lot across from the nightclub, so they could take off at a moment’s notice if needed, and hidden by Tony’s new cloaking technology. Steve tapped his foot against the floor absentmindedly, looking over floor plans and memorizing entrances in and out of the building. “What’s got you so riled up?” Bucky asked, checking the safety on his rifle one last time. “You got a hot date or something?”

“Not anymore.” 

Bucky whistled under his breath. “Julianne?”

“Yeah.” Steve didn’t have his cell phone on him - it wasn’t like the tactical suit had a plethora of pockets - and texting Julianne would only distract him from the mission at hand. Still, he wanted to see if she’d answered, to reassure himself that she didn’t think he’d blown her off. 

“She’ll understand. Things happen, and you can always reschedule.” 

“I know. Been trying to find some time alone with her, actually alone, for months.” Steve shook his head. “Guess I’m allowed to be a little disappointed.” 

“Months?” Bucky eyed him, taking him in, and he knew his best friend was seeing all the nervous ticks Steve managed to hide from the others. Not just his tapping foot, but the slight twitch in his fingers that said he was trying not to reach for a phone that wasn’t there, the way he shifted in his seat as he checked the comms. He was worried about Julianne’s reaction, yes, but also the fact that they had been waiting for Clint and Natasha to contact them and they hadn’t heard anything. “You really do have it bad,” Bucky said, finally. “You tell her yet? Who you are and what you do?” 

Steve rubbed at his eyes. “If I get a chance to see her, yeah, I will.” 

“Good. It’d be nice to see you sneaking out for a good reason for a change.” 

“What, getting food isn’t good enough?” 

“Not when you could be getting the girl while you’re at it.” 

Whatever Steve was going to say was cut off by a red light beeping on the console in front of him. “That’s our signal,” he said, moving to get up from his seat - and then the entire front of the building exploded.

“That… is not the signal,” Bucky said, and both super soldiers dashed out of the quinjet and into the chaos. 

Inside, people were rushing out of the building, and they were the only ones trying to get in. Smoke was billowing out the door and rubble was blocking the entrance, so Steve strapped his shield onto his back and started hauling rocks aside to make a path wide enough for them to get through. Behind him, sirens were already wailing; help was on the way. 

Everyone he helped out and to safety, however, looked like bar patrons or scared employees; they didn’t fear him, or Bucky, they just wanted out. If they were HYDRA agents, they wouldn’t be as excited to see them - or they were good about lying about it. Steve was willing to bet on the former as he saw a handful of shadowy figures make a dash for the back door. 

Bucky saw it too, and he gestured with his eyes towards said door. Steve answered with half a nod to confirm. The one good thing about working with his best friend on missions: they always knew what the other was thinking in moments like this. Together they made their way towards the back, Bucky’s gun raised, Steve’s shield now in front. 

The door led to a stairwell. Lights once lined either side, now flickering in the aftermath of the explosion, while the ones closer to the bottom held steady. Steve heard footsteps beyond, knowing that the stairs must lead to another underground facility, though the maps they’d gotten from Tony didn’t describe the space in detail. He’d rather take his chances down there, because the stairs themselves felt a little claustrophobic and left them at a disadvantage. 

The last thing he expected was another club beneath the one upstairs. 

This one was darker, a more expensive vibe to the furniture. Chairs lay scattered across the floor, knocked every which way as the patrons ran off. Booths lined the side walls, and tables faced the center stage. Music still played from the speakers, one of which looked like it had been riddled with bullet holes: _“I've got hungry eyes, one look at you and I can't disguise. I've got hungry eyes, I feel the magic between you and I...”_ Drinks were still half full on the tables, and more than one cigarette had been tossed aside, some into ashtrays, some not. 

Steve crinkled his nose, put out one butt on the floor with his boot, and followed the sound of the voices. He crouched down, keeping his steps quiet, while he pulled out a tracking device Tony had given them for missions just like this. Two bright dots lit up the screen, one red, one purple. 

Natasha and Clint had found the source of their trouble, alright. 

As they got closer, the voices became more distinct. Steve paused on one side of the next doorway, Bucky on the other. Natasha’s voice rose above the noise, sounding scared and afraid, in Russian that Steve didn’t understand. When he looked at Bucky for a translation, Bucky shook his head. _‘She’s stalling,’_ he mouthed, which meant Natasha was waiting for backup. 

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re saying!” Another voice boomed from inside the room, male, one he didn’t recognize. Natasha’s rambling Russian increased, like any scared girl would when confronted. Oh, Nat was good - if he didn’t know her, Steve would have fallen for it, hook, line, and sinker. “How did you find us? And _speak English!_ You! Why aren’t you saying anything?”

Steve peeked around the corner to see both Natasha and Clint bound in front of a squad of five men - the HYDRA agents they were tracking. They were all dressed for a night at the club rather than in tactical gear, though all were packing. A small group of dancers were huddled in the corner, the dim light of the room reflecting off the sequins in their costumes, and each woman wore a similarly decorated masquerade mask over their eyes and cheeks. A sixth guard kept a weapon trained on them, likely to keep their witnesses silent. 

It was a brilliant play, really, Natasha pretending like she’d just arrived from Russia, and Clint pretending that he couldn’t hear a thing. With his hands behind him, it wasn’t like Clint could sign, either, and it was only a 50-50 shot if his hearing aids were actually on. And it made their captors think they were much weaker targets than they actually were. 

Steve couldn’t risk more than a quick look, but it told him enough. They had the element of surprise on their side. He could see the calculations in Bucky’s eyes, and Steve gave him a nod. Bucky’s priority was always offense, and Steve had the shield to protect the others. Six agents weren’t terrible odds, though he didn’t see Clint’s bow anywhere. Their original priority had been to capture the enemy agents for questioning, but they had to rescue their people first. He dropped his hand to the side, caught Bucky’s glance, and counted down with his fingers. 

_Three, two, one._

Bucky went first, taking out the leader’s knees with two quick shots. Natasha sprung into action, flipping backward to take out the man who had been holding her steady - proof that she’d only been waiting for a distraction to make her move. Clint ducked and rolled out of the way, his hands already working free of his bonds and daggers appearing in both hands. 

Which left the path clear for Steve. He charged in, shield first, sending one man flying into the wall. The second he clocked in the mouth, working his way towards the women huddled in the corner. Those were the innocent bystanders; they didn’t need to see the fight that was to come. 

“The asset,” the leader croaked out, genuinely scared now as he looked up at Bucky stalking towards him. Even if he wanted to, his wounds meant he wouldn’t be able to run, and he likely had the information they were after. 

“Not anymore,” Bucky snarled, hoisting the man up with his metal arm and throwing him into a stack of chairs along the far wall. “Though I can remind you exactly why they feared me if you think you’ve forgotten.” 

The sixth guard, the one trained on the dancers, hadn’t moved to join the fray yet. He trembled, turning his back on the women as Steve approached. “Son,” Steve said, straightening his shoulders. “You’re gonna want to let them go.” 

“We got orders,” he answered, hands shaking as he brought up his gun. 

Steve raised of his eyebrow as he brought his shield up and flicked his hand at the wannabe soldier, a silent ‘come at me’ gesture. “We can do this the hard way, or the easy way. You decide.” 

His only answer was to fire a few rounds. Steve blocked with the shield, the bullets ricocheting against the vibranium and into the wall. 

Steve covered the ground between them in two steps. A swing of the shield saw the gun drop, close to where the dancers were crouched and clinging to each other. He tried to throw a punch, but Steve sidestepped and caught his fist, driving him back against the wall. “Is that all you’ve got?” Steve asked. If so, HYDRA had been slacking on their recruiting practices. 

He ducked another misplaced punch, lowering his shoulder to shove the guy to the ground. When he tried to get back up, Steve swept his legs out from underneath him. “If you cooperate, maybe your sentence will be lighter.”

“Fuck you.” 

“Have it your way.” Steve was about to strike again when he caught movement out of the corner of his eye. 

Behind the enemy, there was a flash of blue sparkles as one of the women jumped up, and another hint of light on silver metal as a thin blade appeared in her hand. With the soldier’s eyes trained on Steve, he never even turned to see her coming, and she sunk the blade into his side. With a twist of her wrist, the blade went up and in, and his eyes went wide as he dropped to his feet in front of her, blood gurgling from his mouth. 

Another woman screamed. The attacker watched the man fall, her jaw set in a firm line, the blue of the mask she wore complimenting the blue in her eyes. “Fourth and fifth rib,” she murmured, and Steve would know that slow drawl anywhere. “Can’t believe that worked.”

Steve lowered the shield, holding it away from the group so that way he would be in a position to guard them all if need be. “Julianne?” he whispered, searching those eyes, and knowing them to be the ones he sketched during lunch for all these weeks. 

She blinked, licking at her lips and studying him. Even in the dim light of the room and with his helmet on, he knew he was still easy to recognize. “....Stevie?” 

Another explosion went off, and Steve’s first instinct was to pull Julianne in towards him, guarding her with his body and the shield. Surprisingly enough, she let him, crouching beside him. There were so many questions he wanted to ask her, and no time for any of it. Not while they were still in danger. It didn’t help that the outfit she wore left little to the imagination, and the part of his brain that wasn’t focused on the mission was saving this image of her to draw later. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, first to Julianne, and then letting his gaze drift over to the other women with her. “Did they hurt you? Any of you?”

Julianne shook her head. “They were gonna use us as hostages if those two didn’t tell them what they wanted to hear. Who are they, anyway?” 

He tried to swallow past the lump in his throat. Had they been a few minutes later, this could have ended far differently, and he could have lost Julianne forever. “They’re all my friends.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Wait. Is that Bucky? Your Bucky?”

Behind them, Natasha had procured one of Bucky’s guns and was making quick work of the two soldiers still standing. Bucky handcuffed the leader, dragging the man behind him, uncaring that he was likely also bleeding out. Clint finally secured his bow on his back and was heading for the exit. “You can trust them,” Steve said.

“After all this I’m not sure who the fuck to trust anymore.” Julianne went quiet after that, leaving Steve’s side so she could go to the other women and check on each one. They huddled together as they stood, Julianne in front with her chin raised, unafraid. Her eyes said differently, but Steve admired her courage. 

He’d seen her poker face before, but he would have preferred if it wasn’t directed at him. 

For now, there were other matters to attend to, and explanations would have to wait until later. “Is that all of them?” Steve asked Natasha, surveying the damage in the room. The battle had been brief but bloody, and the remaining enemy agents were on the ground, writhing in agony. Two of them were dead, and the rest could be brought into custody. 

Natasha nodded, straightening out the dress she wore. Even with her makeup smeared and clothes torn, she still looked more put together than all of them combined. “Think a few escaped when the first bomb went off. We’ll have to see what intel they’ll give us.” 

Footsteps thundered on the stairs, and Steve’s first instinct was to bring up the shield. Bucky and Natasha fell in behind, guns trained on the door. Clint noticed half a second later, flattening his body against the wall so he couldn’t be seen from the doorway. He held his breath and planted his feet, counting out the beats in his head. The familiar faces in SHIELD gear were a welcome sight. 

“We’ve rounded up the injured up on the street level,” the first SHIELD officer said, and the nametag on her chest read “S. Rodriguez.” “We’re holding everyone for questioning until further orders. Captain?” She glanced over at Steve, waiting. 

“Our first priority is to take care of those who may have been hurt in the explosions,” Steve said, the cool tone of authority slipping into his voice without him realizing it. These people looked up to him as a leader, and he didn’t want to let them down. “We have some down here who need to be seen as well. And these ones,” he looked over at the four agents on the ground, and the one still dragging behind Bucky, “they have a date with Fury and Hill.” And potentially Steve himself, but he had other things to deal with first. 

With the the SHIELD officers there to handle the enemy agents, the Avengers lead the dancers out of the darkened lower levels. Clint brought a hand up to flick on his hearing aids as they walked into the fancy club. “Wait, are they just playing the _Dirty Dancing_ soundtrack in here?” he asked, glancing around the room and the chaotic state it was in. 

“You like _Dirty Dancing_ ,” Natasha said, one corner of her mouth twitching into a half-smile. 

“Yeah, but like… not in the club. That’s really for crying into your ice cream on a Friday night when you’re going through a breakup.” 

Natasha raised an eyebrow. “And you would know about that how, exactly?”

Behind him, Julianne snorted, and Steve shot her a smile. She averted her eyes and looked over at Clint instead, who just waved a hand to dismiss Nat’s comments. “Do you want me to tell everyone what your cry-into-your-ice-cream movie is?” Clint asked.

There was a thump as Bucky dragged the leader over a fallen chair, who he insisted on carrying out of the club himself. “Please tell me it’s something embarrassingly girly.” 

“Remember, Clint, I know where you sleep.” 

“Right next to you.” Clint turned to face the group and grinned. The playful banter was almost enough to make them forget what they’d just done, what they’d just seen. But then again, Clint was always good at being the comic relief. “And it’s _Steel Magnolias_.” 

Eyes flashing, Natasha darted towards Clint, and Clint turned and booked it up the stairs to the club above. Not that the answer mattered to Steve - he still had a list of movies to work through, and he would add that one to the list - but it was good to see that his friends were still able to laugh and joke like normal. Just another day on the job, except for the fact that he now had to talk to Julianne about who he was, what he did, how there was more to him than the shield and the uniform. 

For now, it was enough that she was safe, along with the other innocent people who hadn’t realized what was going on behind closed doors. Steve refused to consider the idea that she’d been a part of the operation. Not with the look in her eyes when she killed that man. Julianne had been just as surprised as Steve was and it showed. 

Perhaps it was time to learn more about each other after all. If she’d still let him take her out for a date, anyway.


	4. Chapter 4

Ideally, everyone would have been brought in for questioning. Steve knew that wasn’t always the case, and the SHIELD operatives in the field were sorting out who to take in, who needed what medical attention, and who was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Once they were topside, it was easy to lose track of Julianne as she was swept up with the other survivors and Steve was pulled aside to handle anything and everything else. Thankfully no one wanted autographs, which always happened whenever he wore the suit in public. 

The Avengers themselves weren’t subject to the same level of scrutiny from SHIELD, but then again, they still had debrief to go through. Clint took the helm of the quinjet, Natasha at his side, waiting to head back to the Tower. Steve lingered in the doorway, unable to face the thought of leaving Julianne before he got a chance to say anything. 

Bucky, as usual, knew something was up. And, also as usual, he would wait until Steve wanted to talk about it, and in the middle of a mission wasn’t the place to do so. Instead Bucky gestured with his head towards the open back hatch of the quinjet. “Go,” he said. “I know there’s something you need to take care of.” 

“Julianne was in the club.” 

Whatever Bucky had been thinking, that wasn’t it, and he blinked at Steve. “What?” 

“The lower one. She was with the dancers they were holding hostage.” 

“Go find her. I’ll stall these guys for you, but I don’t know how much time I can buy you.” 

Steve clasped Bucky on the shoulder. “You’re the best.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t I know it.” 

Jumping out of the quinjet and ignoring Natasha’s call, Steve jogged his way towards the group of makeshift medical tents set up in the street. In another hour or two, once all patients had been evaluated, the tents would be taken down and the street would be open to normal traffic again. He’d taken his helmet off in the quinjet so at least he’d be easier to recognize, and the first operative who noticed him straightened immediately in her seat, clutching her clipboard. “Captain Rogers,” she said, “what can we do for you?” 

He gave her the best smile he could manage, which wasn’t much when his insides were also trying to tear themselves apart. “There was a group of dancers who had been held inside the club. I’m trying to find one of them who helped us. Her name is Julianne.” 

She chewed on her bottom lip as she thought it over. “It’s - an unusual request, Captain, what with patient confidentiality and all-”

“I’m not asking to see her records,” he was quick to clarify. “She’s a friend. I want to make sure she’s alright.” 

The flap on the tent fluttered opened, and a blonde woman stepped through, a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, a dull grey that did nothing to hide the sparkles of her dress beneath. The mask was gone now, but her shoulders were hunched over, far from the sassy woman Steve saw when he grabbed lunch at Wild Billy’s. Julianne looked up at him, blinked, then glanced at the woman next to him. “Doc said I can leave now that I’ve given my statement. Y’all need anything else?” Julianne’s eyes raked over his body, actually taking in the suit this time. “Captain.”

The way she said his title, not his name, sent shivers up his spine and not in the way he’d been looking forward to. “Julianne,” he breathed, still smiling for her even though she didn’t return it back to him. “We should talk.”

“You think?” She pulled the blanket tighter around her shoulders. 

“Um…” The SHIELD operative cleared her throat. “There’s an empty triage room to your right, you could use that?”

He glanced at her name tag, memorizing ‘K. Johnson’ for later, because she was a godsend right now and Steve would express his gratitude for that when this was all over. “Thank you.” 

As much as he wanted to, he didn’t take Julianne’s hand or reach out for her as he held the flap open for them both. Inside was a stretcher and a basic set of equipment for their field medics, bringing back memories of the war. Some things never changed, but he didn’t want to focus on that now. Aware of her personal space and knowing she’d had a rougher time down in the club than he did, he made a point not to block the door, moving to stand against the far wall. “Are you alright?” 

Julianne shrugged. “You tell me. Found out the guy who was signing my paychecks is some pseudo Nazi creep who thought so little of us that he was going to use us as fucking bargaining chips. So what do you think, am I alright?” Her words swam together, her accent thicker than he’d heard it before, and he didn’t blame her for being tired, stressed, angry. All acceptable emotions given what she’d been through. 

Steve managed to hide his flinch, knowing she didn’t have anyone else to take it out on. “It’s been a long day,” he said instead. “It’s never easy, but I promise it does get better.” Sleep and food would help, as well as time to process it all. “I’m sorry we didn’t get there sooner.”

“Of course you are.” She wouldn’t meet his eyes, staring at the star on his chest. He’d never been more aware of his armor than he was right now, and it reminded him of those ridiculous shows he’d done with the USO. Boosting morale, but not doing anything of real use. Just like he was failing at comforting Julianne now. “You’re fucking Captain America. Of course you’d apologize for their bullshit.”

“Julianne, about that-”

“Were you ever going to tell me?” She looked up at him, eyes blazing even as they filled with tears. “Or was I just some stupid waitress to you?” 

She was everything. His first thought in the morning, his last thought at night. Steve hadn’t felt this way since Peggy and his mouth went dry. “You’re not ‘just’ anything and you’re sure as fuck not stupid,” he said, unable to stop the words from coming out of his mouth. “There’s more to it than that. It’s complicated. And yes, I was going to tell you. Today, in fact. When we could be in private and your entire restaurant didn’t have to listen in.” 

“Well, it’s private now.” Julianne gestured to the tent around them. “But it’s too late. You are the physical manifestation of the American dream. Two and a half kids and a white picket fence and that ain’t me, darlin’. Never gonna be.” 

“And that’s not me either.” Steve didn’t want to be defensive, but it was hard when he knew she had it all wrong. “There’s more to me than just… this.” He gestured to his uniform, grateful he’d left the shield back in the quinjet. “It’s not exactly something you drop in the first conversation you have with someone. I wanted a chance to explain it all.” 

“No offense, _Captain_ , but you’ve had a lot of chances to tell me by now.” She snorted, “Though I can see why you wouldn’t. Couldn’t let Captain America be seen with the likes of someone like me.” 

“Excuse me?” 

“Oh please. You know exactly what I mean.” He didn’t, but Julianne was on a roll, and there was no stopping her now. “I’m an exotic dancer. Not,” she held up a finger, “a stripper, I’ll stab you if you call me that, but it was my only chance to do what I love. I couldn’t afford Juilliard and I gotta do something. Anything to pursue that dream.” 

“So?” Yes, Steve had noted in the back of his mind that the club was shady, which likely meant whatever work Julianne was doing there was shady too. And he hadn’t cared as long as she was safe. The rest was her business to figure out, and Steve would only offer advice or help if she asked for it. He knew Julianne; she was stubborn, and had to figure it out on her own. Anything else would be taken as an insult. “You say this like I should be ashamed of your work or something. And I’m not.” 

She eyed him, glaring. “You’re lying.” 

“Not in my nature to lie, doll.” Steve offered a hand to her, palm up, and Julianne ignored it. “I always liked you for you. Your smile, your sass. That doesn’t change because of this.” 

“Yeah? Well, maybe it changes some things for me.” 

Those words were akin to a slap in the face. Steve paused, drawing a breath. He’d expected something like this, if he was being honest with himself, but only as a worst case scenario. Now things were worse than he thought. “That’s fair,” he finally murmured, looking down at his boots. “Look, we’ve each been through a lot today, and it’s a lot to process.” He still had a longer night ahead, considering he’d have to catch the quinjet and go through debrief and all the paperwork before he could sleep. He was also used to this sort of stress, whereas Julianne was thrown straight into the deep end. Her reactions were understandable, and Steve tried not to take it personally. “If and when you want to talk about it, give me a call.” 

Julianne snorted. “Sure thing, Captain. I’m sure you’ll just be dying to pick up the phone.” She moved past him to leave, pulling her blanket tighter around her shoulders in a makeshift shield. “That is, if you’re not too busy saving the world and all.” 

He watched her go, but kept his body still, knowing that if he followed her, if he pressed against the personal space she always guarded so carefully, everything they’d worked towards these last few months would be ruined. “It’s a promise.” 

“And promises don’t mean anything in today’s world.” She lifted the flap on the tent and stepped out, not bothering to give him one last look. 

Steve stood there for a minute, closing his eyes. All he would do is make things worse if he went after her now, and his heart raced in his chest. Today was supposed to be a day of revelations, of seeing if they could mean more to each other. And it had been, but he didn’t want it to be like this. Now it felt like he’d ruined everything and there wasn’t an enemy to fight or someone to save. Steve was alone. 

Running a hand over his hair, he finally stepped out of the triage room, nodding to Officer Johnson as he did so. Julianne was, of course, nowhere to be seen. And Steve had a quinjet to catch.

***

In the wee hours of the following morning, Steve finally made it back to his quarters. His phone sat like a lead weight in his pocket throughout the debrief, but he refused to be the person checking their texts in the middle of a meeting.

As it turned out, all of the HYDRA operatives they captured were low-ranking officers. The information they were willing to provide wasn’t much more than they already knew, but they’d busted one hideout, and it would surely lead them to more. The fact that they’d had innocent people like Julianne working for them, who didn’t know the darker purposes behind their business, still left a sour taste in Steve’s mouth. HYDRA would take anything from anyone if they let it. It was their job to stop them. 

Now, he needed sleep, but his mind was still racing. Collapsing onto the bed, Steve grabbed his phone and finally looked at the messages waiting there. There was just one from Julianne, dated nearly twelve hours before: 

**_[Julianne]:_ ** _sorry darlin, got called into my second job too :( let me know when you’re free next week?_

He rubbed at his eyes. He was an idiot. Twelve hours ago, she’d still been interested in him and then HYDRA had to go and ruin everything. And Steve knew better than to ask after that date now. Too much had happened, but he couldn’t call it a night without sending some message back. 

It took him a few minutes to compose what he wanted to say, ignoring the fact that the clock on the nightstand read 2:04 am and no one should be awake at that hour. Steve wasn’t sleeping anytime soon, and he didn’t expect an answer tonight.

**_[Steve]:_ ** _Hey. I know you might be sleeping, but I just wanted to apologize for not being upfront about who I am earlier. This wasn’t the way I wanted you to find out, because our relationship means more to me than to simply throw it away like it was meaningless. You deserve answers and an explanation if you want them._

So much of his life had been defined by the suit and the shield, and it was sometimes hard to remember how to be Steve underneath all that. When he was with Julianne, he could forget about being Captain America for a few blissful minutes. He could be _normal._ But perhaps that was too much to ask for. 

**_[Steve]:_ ** _I meant it when I said you could call me anytime, anywhere. If I can’t pick up the phone then I’ll call you back when I can. I still hope to get to know you better, Julianne. If you’ll give me a chance._   
**_[Steve]:_ ** _Until then, I hope for nothing but the best for you. If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to reach out._

Sighing, Steve set the phone on its charger. The ball was in Julianne’s court now, and he’d done what he could. All he could do now was try to sleep, and hope she’d answer come morning.


	5. Chapter 5

Julianne didn’t answer the following day. Or the next day. Or the day after that. Steve took to leaving his phone on during briefings so he would hear his text messages, but nothing ever came through. He contemplated texting again, but knew that would be a mistake. Whatever came next had to happen on Julianne’s terms. Steve refused to be like the men who treated her poorly in the past, and he knew that repeatedly reaching out to her could soon be seen as harassment in her eyes. 

So he tried to keep himself busy. He hit the gym more often than usual. So what if he broke twice as many punching bags each session? The way she looked at him that last time still haunted him. _If you’re not too busy saving the world,_ she’d told him. Not everyone wanted to be a part of the life the Avengers lived; logically, Steve could understand that. Emotionally was another story. 

All he wanted was to explain himself to her, so she would understand his point of view. Was that too much to ask? 

A week passed, and apparently he wasn’t hiding his stress all that well, either. The only one who would work out with him was Bucky, and only then because his healing factor was on par with Steve’s. His mind wasn’t on the fight and he wasn’t holding back his punches, and neither did his best friend - and eventually resulted in Bucky sweeping his legs out from underneath him. He leaned over Steve, knee in his chest, metal hand poised for another blow. “Have you talked to her yet?” Bucky asked, panting. 

Bucky was also the only person who knew about Julianne and what she meant to him, and thus the only one who would bring it up. Steve rolled out from underneath Bucky, but didn’t move to continue the fight. “No.” 

“You tried to call her?” 

He shook his head. “I don’t think she’d pick up the phone anyway.” 

“You fucking chicken.” 

“Fuck off,” was his first response, and he reminded himself that he wasn’t angry at Bucky, and that his friend was just trying to help. Finally, he sat up, rested his hands on his knees, and met Bucky’s eyes. “It’s not that,” he said. It wasn’t that Steve feared having the conversation with Julianne. This feeling of being cut off from her after weeks of seeing her, to know she was ignoring his messages, was worse. “I don’t want to push her away.”

Getting to his feet, Bucky wiped at his face with a nearby towel, letting it hang around his neck. “You know what I think, punk?” He sauntered off towards the showers, pausing in the doorway. “I think you need to get yourself a sandwich. Take it back to where it all began.” 

Steve hated when Bucky was right, because he never let Steve forget it. So, a week after the HYDRA bust and his last texts to Julianne, he went back to the restaurant, found his usual table in the back, and waited to see if she’d arrive. 

His server this time wasn’t Julianne. Brown hair tied in a ponytail and with pretty green eyes, but they weren’t the blue ones he’d been hoping for. “Hi there!” she said, glancing him up and down. “Long time no see! What can we get for you?” 

It was hard enough to keep the smile on his face and not let this girl know how disappointed he was. He also didn’t know her name, because it had been so long since he’d had another server besides Julianne. “The usual, please. A bottle of Sam Adams and the pulled pork sandwich and fries.” 

“You got it!” She bounced off to place his order, and Steve glanced around the restaurant, looking for some sign that Julianne was there. He wasn’t about to stalk the place, though he knew people who could do that for him, and he wouldn’t force Julianne to talk to him if she didn’t want to see him. He took out his sketchbook but couldn’t bring his pencil to paper. Instead he flipped through the pages and his older drawings of Julianne, brushing his fingers over each one, remembering when she used to check him out as she brought over his food. 

The server brought out his sandwich and a refill of his beer, but she hovered by his table for half a second longer than necessary. “Do you need anything else?” she asked, eyes looking down at the table before flicking up to his face. Steve sensed she wanted to say something, so he waited her out, setting his sketchbook aside. “Um…” She chewed on her bottom lip. “You’re Stevie, right? One of Julianne’s regulars?”

Hearing that nickname come from someone else besides the Southern girl who gave him the moniker hurt, but Steve kept his face calm. “That’s me.” 

“She doesn’t work here anymore.” The girl flinched, not meeting his eyes. “Gave her notice about a week ago. We all know you used to come in here to see her, so…” 

She quit. Julianne had _quit her job_ because she knew it was the one place Steve would be able to find her. No wonder why she wasn’t answering his messages. In the moment, there wasn’t anything he could do but to smile sadly and nod. There wasn’t any other explanation for her sudden departure. “Thank you for telling me,” even though it felt like a knife to the gut. “If she stops by, for her last check or anything, can you tell her I asked after her?” 

“Yeah, sure. You seem like a nice enough guy.” The server reached over to pat him on the arm before leaving with his empty beer bottle in tow, so he was alone with his thoughts yet again. 

The food was still good and the beer was still refreshing, but the place had lost a lot of its charm without Julianne to grace its floors. Steve left a good tip anyway, because it was the right thing to do, but didn’t linger like he did on his previous visits. He would have wandered the city after lunch, but the places he wanted to go didn’t exist anymore and he didn’t want anyone to recognize him if he stayed out too long. 

That’s what got him in to this situation in the first place, after all. Being Captain America and trying to escape from it, only to have it be the final straw of a relationship that never got a chance to be. 

Eventually he made his way back to the Tower, passing through the common area on the way back to his suite. And who should be making out on the couch than Bucky and his girlfriend Darcy, curled around each other, Bucky leaning over her with his hand halfway up Darcy’s shirt. Steve darted his eyes away, wanting to give the couple some privacy, especially when Darcy was moaning into Bucky’s kiss and pulling on his hair. 

Which was the exact moment Darcy noticed they weren’t alone, gave a little squeak, and would have fallen off the couch had Bucky’s arms not caught her. “Steve! Oh my god! We didn’t see you there!” 

Steve waved off her concerns, wanting to smile for her, but unable to find it within him at the moment. “Don’t worry about it, you’re fine.” 

Bucky glanced down at his watch, grinning. “See you finally took my advice and went to have that lunch, huh?” He slid Darcy off his lap so he could curl his metal arm around her. “How did it go?” 

He didn’t answer, just stared at his best friend instead. 

“That well, huh?” 

“Julianne’s gone.” 

The smirk on Bucky’s face faded. “What?” 

“She quit.” Steve threw up a hand as he went over to the elevator, hitting the ‘up’ button. “She left the restaurant and won’t respond to my texts, so yeah, I think I got my answer. I don’t want to talk about it, okay?” Maybe when he had some time to reflect on it, when it didn’t hurt as much, then he and Bucky could discuss it. Not now. Not anytime soon. 

“Steve.” Bucky went to get up, but Steve was already heading into the elevator. “We can try to find her! Or something. Anything. Steve?” 

Bucky’s protests were cut off by the elevator doors closing. All Steve wanted was to sleep, to wake up without his heart hurting again. Going back under the ice didn’t seem like such a bad option, as drastic as it was. Logically, he knew this feeling would go away, and in a few weeks, a month, a year from now, he’d think of Julianne as a fond memory. Right now he cursed the fact that the serum meant he couldn’t get drunk without Asgardian ale and Thor wasn’t on Earth at the moment. 

His phone stayed on the table by the door of his suite, silent but not shut off. If someone needed Captain America, they knew where to find him. 

If someone needed Steve Rogers, they were out of luck.


	6. Chapter 6

A week later, Tony finally returned from his trip to Los Angeles. Tony was a New York boy at heart, much like Steve was, though they both had their roots firmly in different generations. Steve preferred Brooklyn, and pooling his money with Bucky so they could go to Coney Island. Tony belonged to the flash and whirl of Manhattan, and the Tower always felt a bit more like home when he and Pepper were around. 

The Iron Man still kept up with Avengers business while he travelled, and the only reason he hadn’t been involved in their sting at the nightclub was because he was out of town. There had been plenty of phone calls and virtual meetings about the subject, so Steve didn’t feel the need to fill Tony in the moment he landed. He did not, however, expect Tony to page him down to the lab, but it wasn’t like Steve was doing much else. 

If he couldn’t throw himself into his work as an Avenger, then he would be in his room trying not to think about the relationship that had never been, and that was just pathetic. Steve was working on it. 

At least the lab looked less foreign to him now than when he first started hanging around Tony. He still didn’t quite know what did what, but he was more familiar around the tools and he knew he wasn’t going to break anything if he touched something. The door gave a whoosh as it opened, signalling Steve’s arrival, but Tony didn’t so much as look up from the part he was working on. 

Steve waited, leaning against a workbench with his arms folded over his chest. “You wanted to see me?” he asked once he caught Tony’s eye.

“Ah, Cap! Just the man I was looking for.” Tony set aside the wrench he was using and gave Steve the once over, the way they did when they finished a mission. Assessing injuries, confirming everyone was alive and whole. “That’s funny, you look a hell of a lot better than I was led to believe.” 

He raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Steve always made an effort to look put together - not so much as Tony, of course, but then again, his ego wasn’t as big as Tony’s either. Today was a casual day, but the tee and jeans he wore weren’t cheap either, considering he needed most things custom made in order to fit him. 

“Been chatting with Lewis in the lab.” Tony gave a wave over his shoulder, and Steve followed the motion to notice the glass wall separating one room from another. On the other side, Darcy waved back as she brought Jane another cup of coffee. 

Of course. It wasn’t that Darcy was a gossip, but with how he’d returned to the Tower the week before, Bucky had likely told her everything. Which would have gotten to Jane, and eventually to Tony. At least Jane would forget quickly and if Bruce was around the labs, he wouldn’t care. “And?”

“And she said you looked like you’re having a rough time after and you weren’t talking to the Tin Man about it.” Tony wiped his hands on a clean towel. “So I figured I’d do the friend thing and ask.”

“Nothing to ask about.”

“Lewis said there was a girl involved.”

“Not anymore.” 

Moving to a cabinet along the wall, Tony pulled out a bottle of scotch and two glasses. “Wanna talk about it?” He waved the bottle in Steve’s direction. “I know it’s not the good stuff Thor brings from Asgard, but it’ll take the edge off.” He poured a glass and handed it to Steve without waiting for confirmation. “If anyone knows how to deal with women troubles, it’s me.”

“You mean by throwing money at them? Or having one night stands? I mean, I can go on if you’d like.” 

Tony waved the glass at him, and Steve sighed, finally taking it. “Those days are over for me, you know that.” Ever since Tony and Pepper got together, Tony was more stable, calmer. He was still an asshole genius caught up in his own ego, but there was a kind man underneath that too. Not that Tony liked anyone knowing that outside of the team. “But you might enjoy a different perspective.” Tony poured himself a glass and took a long sip. “I also might have gone through the security records from the club.” 

Steve’s head snapped up. “What?” 

“Relax, it’s all the normal operating stuff we’d do for a mission. Just because you have no inclination to use technology to its fullest advantage doesn’t mean the rest of us are so quaint.” Tony swirled the scotch in his glass out of habit. “Then it was just a matter of digging through those records and that records…”

“Get to the point, Tony.” 

Taking a seat behind a computer, Tony tapped a few keys and brought up a picture of Julianne. “I have a few leads on your mystery girl if you want them, Cap.”

Leaning over, Steve stared at the screen and the details listed there. Most of which he knew: Julianne Simone, born April 2, 25 years old. Waitress and dancer, born in Killeen, Texas, with a current address in Queens. “I also have all that information printed out for you,” Tony said. “I know you like it better that way.” 

Steve shook his head. “This is a violation of her privacy.” 

“Hey now. It’s not like I pulled security footage from her apartment or anything.” The tone in Tony’s voice implied that he could, however. “Just the nightclub, and the medical tents where you spoke with her. She really laid into you, huh?”

His shoulders sagged. “Not like you’re any stranger to that, Tony,” he said, collapsing into the seat next to him. Steve finally took a sip, the liquor burning down the back of his throat and the flavor sitting on his tongue. “She was furious,” he murmured. “Had every right to be. To find out I’m, well, me on top of it all… must have been the last straw.” 

Tony studied him over the rim of his glasses, the same way he would look at a broken piece of machinery and try to figure out how to put it back together again. “You’ve got it bad for this girl.” It was a statement, not a question. “And she doesn’t know.”

“I don’t think she cares.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” Tony flipped through a few more screens of security footage, bringing up a shot of outside the makeshift medical facility SHIELD had set up. Julianne was sobbing, blanket wrapped around her body, doubled over and kneeling on the ground. “That doesn’t look like a girl who’s okay to me. Question is, what are you going to do about it?”

Watching the image on loop on the screen, Steve reached out for a moment, as if by doing so he could touch Julianne herself. “I don’t know,” he whispered, and it was the truth. Every story Julianne told her about the men in her life ended with her being hurt or betrayed. Steve couldn’t hurt her like that. He couldn’t be like those other men. He refused. 

“Well, now you have the info you need to figure it all out.” Tony pulled out a folder full of papers and passed it to Steve. “And if it were me, I’d make it fast and flashy.”

“Is that how you got Pepper to agree to marry you?”

Tony flashed that millionaire smile. “Something like that. Gotta get back to the robots now though.” He knocked back the rest of his scotch in one swallow. “Unless you want to stay and help?”

“Oh no. I am not having a repeat of what happened last time.” In which several of the robots malfunctioned and tried to follow Steve around the lab, and Steve ended up punching them out, breaking them beyond repair. “Thanks, though.” He took one more sip of scotch before handing the rest of the glass to Tony. “You can finish that. I’ve got to go.” 

“To go get your girl, yes?” 

“None of your business.” His hands did curl around the paperwork Tony had given him, information he wished he learned from Julianne herself, but that he still wanted to know anyway. “Tony… thanks.” 

“Anytime, Cap. Can’t have you being so distracted you lose sight of what’s important.” Tony gave him a mock salute before turning back to his machines in front of him. Then, after a second’s thought, he finished the rest of Steve’s scotch, too. “You let me know if you need anything else.” 

With that, Tony went back to work, and Steve headed back to the upper levels of the Tower. His friends meant well, and he understood that, but he also wanted to respect Julianne’s right to her privacy. If she didn’t want to be with him, he could accept that, as much as it hurt him. He would not chase her down like some sort of lovesick teenager, needing to declare his feelings. 

But still… he leaned back in the elevator, running his fingers over the folder from Tony. At least Steve might be able to know if Julianne was alright. Even if she never knew, he could try to look out for her from afar, and that made something warm curl in his chest, the way it had when he first started sketching her all those months ago. 

It was with that thought in mind that he made himself comfortable in the living room, paperwork and sketchbook in hand, and settled in to read.


	7. Chapter 7

Thor’s return from Asgard a few days later put any plans of reaching out to Julianne on hold. Whenever the Asgardian god was in the Tower, things seemed jollier, more upbeat, for his joy and positive attitude spread through the Avengers like wildfire. Steve needed that, to be able to share a quick laugh with a friend. While the others were trying, Thor had no idea what had Steve down in the first place, though Steve knew Thor was aware something was off. Thankfully, Thor also knew when to leave something alone, which Steve appreciated.

Sparring with Thor had originally been Bucky’s idea. Thor came downstairs to join them in training, and Bucky took one look at the god, then back at Steve, and said, “Great, he can beat the shit out of you for a change.” 

Thor only grinned. “The good Captain wishes to practice his skills? I would be honored.” 

“Be careful, though,” Bucky said, wiping at his face with a towel. “He’s had a mean right hook lately. And hasn’t been holding back.” 

“Now who’s a fucking chicken?” Steve shot back, raising an eyebrow. 

“Considering you’re here with us instead of taking care of things?” Bucky pointed at him. “Still you.” 

“What things need to be taken care of?” Thor asked, tying his long hair back from his face. “Are we to be going into battle?”

Steve laughed. “Only practicing, Thor. I promise.” 

Sparring with Thor was always an experience. One, he was an actual god from a race that valued its warriors and it showed. Two, Steve really could hit him as hard as he wanted and Thor would only laugh it off and return the favor. He would be sore as hell when they were finished, but it was a good feeling compared to his emotional state as of late. 

It made him feel like himself, the same way sketching did, not that he did much of that lately. Perhaps he’d find a new place to work on his art. No more restaurants, no more unintentional muses. Just somewhere quiet where he could draw and focus his mind, just like he was doing with each hit and block with Thor. 

They went a few rounds, Steve winning some, Thor winning most. Bucky retired to the sidelines, sipping at a bottle of water and catching his breath. After one particularly hard punch from Thor which sent Steve flying into the padded wall behind them, Steve held up a hand in surrender. 

“Captain.” Thor immediately stopped, coming over to offer a hand to help Steve up. “Do you require a moment? You look winded.”

“That’s how it feels, punk!” Bucky called over. 

Steve flipped Bucky off before looking up at Thor, taking the offered hand and pulling himself to his feet. “Nah, I’m good. Give me a sec and we can go again.” 

Before any of them could move, the intercom came on above them. “Captain Rogers,” came the smooth voice of F.R.I.D.A.Y., the AI Tony used to operate the Tower. “Mr. Stark requests your presence in the main lobby.” 

“Right now?” He was sweaty, gross, and needed a shower. The only place Steve was headed after this was to his suite, barring the end of the world, of course. “Can he wait a few minutes?”

“In his words: _‘Unless he wants to miss the opportunity of a lifetime, he should get his ass down here.’_ ” F.R.I.D.A.Y. even changed the sound of her voice to sound like exactly like Tony’s. 

Steve sighed, glancing up at the ceiling like the AI would actually be able to see him. “Fine. Give me five minutes.” He glanced at Bucky. “Any idea what he’s up to?”

Bucky shrugged. “No clue. I’ll come with you if you want.” 

“As will I.” Thor clasped Steve on the shoulder. “Let us go see what the Iron Man has in store for us.” 

Grabbing a towel for his face, Steve dabbed himself as all three of them made their way to the elevator. Random requests from Tony weren’t weird, so Steve was more curious than anything. The two super soldiers and the god made for a tight fight in the elevator, though, a thought which made Steve smile. Thor seemed not to notice, humming to himself and watching the numbers tick down. 

The main floor of the Avengers Tower was open to the public, as well as a couple floors above. There were the usual touristy things - a gift shop, an information desk, a Starbucks - which was why Steve tended not to spend a lot of time down here. People often milled about in the lobby hoping for a chance to see an Avenger, and they had a back entrance in order to slip out when they didn’t feel like dealing with a crowd. But this was Tony, and he liked the attention, so to the main lobby they went. The elevator doors whooshed open, and it wasn’t hard to find Tony, in the middle of a small group of girls who were all asking for his autograph. He was walking through them, smiling but not paying said girls any mind, leaning down to talk with someone else who he couldn’t quite see from here. 

Steve sighed, gritted his teeth and walked out, aware that Thor and Bucky had each stepped back to flank him on either side. It was easy to adopt his Captain America persona out in public, like putting on a familiar pair of shoes. He’d been having a fine time in the gym, and he hadn’t been thinking about everything else in his life. Hopefully they would have a chance to get back to that before the day was through. 

“Tony!” Steve called over, his voice loud enough and commanding enough to be heard over the noise of the room. “You asked to see me?” 

He took a few strides forward, crossing the distance between them with purpose in his step - and stopped in his tracks when he saw who Tony had with him. 

She was dressed more for an afternoon at home rather than heading out anywhere, in a fuzzy, oversized off white sweater that almost reached her knees. It hung off one delicate shoulder, revealing the tank she wore underneath. Her leggings were dark grey, tucked into worn cowboy boots that showed years of use, and not from being worn on a city street, either. A large purse dangled in the crook of her arm, blonde hair pushed back by the sunglasses perched on top of her head. 

“Ain’t gotta be goin’ through all this trouble,” Julianne drawled. “If you had something to say to me, you could have just said it in the car and I would be out of your way.” 

“Not something to say,” Tony held up one finger to her, “but someone you had to see.” Tony looked up to see the three of them on the other side of the lobby. Thor and Bucky had kept walking, and only paused to look over when each realized Steve wasn’t still with them. “And there he is now!” 

His feet were rooted to the ground. Julianne was here, in the Tower. And she wasn’t yelling, or running away from him screaming. That was a good sign, he hoped. “Julianne,” he whispered, he said, licking at his lips and aware of how he must look, his shirt sticking to his back and chest, towel around his neck. He could feel her eyes on him from here, and knew she was giving him the once over, just like she did when he would see her at the restaurant. And this time it was in an approving manner, instead of wishing he’d disappear. “And Tony. What have you done?” 

Tony laid a hand on his heart, as if he was wounded. “I was just helping you out! You wouldn’t go to the girl, so I brought the girl to you. You’re welcome.” 

“This wasn’t your business to get involved in.”

“Well, I didn’t see you doing anything about it.” 

“And,” Julianne said, giving Steve a hesitant smile, “when Iron Man shows up at your apartment in a limo, you get in the limo.” She shifted her weight from one foot to another, adjusting her bag on her shoulder. “Hi, Stevie.”

Her smile was such a small gesture, but it had a tiny spark of hope curling in his chest. “Hey, Jules.” The nickname rolled off his tongue, and it felt too good to stop. “We’ve got a lot to talk about, I know.” 

“And now you have that opportunity! See, I knew this was all going to work out.” Tony spread his hands out before him, and Steve choked back a laugh at the unimpressed look Julianne gave Tony. “My work here is done.” 

“He always about takin’ all the credit when he ain’t done much of anything?” Julianne asked, raising an eyebrow in Tony’s direction. 

Steve chuckled. “You have no idea.”

“Hey! I’m still right here!”

“And she’s not lying!” Bucky called from the side. 

Looking behind him, he found Bucky and Thor leaning against the wall, Darcy now between them with a big bowl of popcorn in her arms. She waved at Steve, cheeks full like a little chipmunk. “There’s a popcorn machine on the main floor now,” she said between bites. “I was just bringing some up for Jane and I. No more of that microwave b.s.”

“That’s why I love you,” Bucky said, kissing Darcy’s temple before reaching for another handful of popcorn. 

“My lightning sister does have impeccable timing,” Thor added. 

“And also because you blew up the microwave in the lab,” Tony said, wiggling a finger in Darcy’s direction. 

Darcy straighted to her full height, which didn’t mean much when she was standing between Bucky and Thor. “Hey! That was all Janey, thank you very much!”

Steve laughed, a sound lighter for the fact that it felt like forever since he felt like doing so. Then he looked over at Julianne and gave her a soft smile. “Can we have that talk now?” he asked, stepping between her and Tony, who was now arguing the logistics of the destroyed microwave with Darcy. “I probably need to shower and change, but I can bring you upstairs with me to wait, or I can meet you down here if that’s easier?” He held out a hand to her, hopeful that this might be the day when she’d finally take it. 

Julianne hesitated, looking down at his palm for a long second before sliding her fingers over his. So soft and so gentle, but still with a hint of the calluses that spoke of a life once worked on a ranch. “Thinkin’ I’d like to come with you, if you don’t mind.” 

Slowly, giving her time to pull back, he curled his hand around her smaller one. “I would love that.” 

Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Tony pump his fist, and Darcy and Bucky were both grinning behind her bowl of popcorn. Thor beamed, coming forward to clap Steve on the shoulder. “You will be in very good hands with the Captain,” he said. “He is a valiant warrior and a great example of what mankind can be.”

“Wait, is he for real?” Julianne blinked up at Thor, but didn’t take her hand from Steve’s. 

“Verily so! I am Thor Odinson, crown prince of Asgard, and a good friend of Captain Rogers.” Despite the fact that he was dressed for the gym, there was still a regal air to Thor as he bowed to Julianne and kissed the back of her free hand.

“Hey Thor,” Bucky said, “is that spiel how you got Jane to date you?”

“Nah,” Darcy said, “we hit him with a car first.”

“Twice!” Thor grinned. “‘Tis a match for the ages, my Lady Jane and I. Perhaps, when we have time, I can introduce you two.”

“Later, Thor.” With his other hand, Steve guided Julianne towards the elevators. “You can call me if you need me-”

“-But we better not need you,” Tony finished for him. “Go, go!” He waved both of them off before turning towards the crowd that had gathered nearby, clearly trying to get Tony’s attention. Once he gave them that million-watt smile, no one would care where Steve and Julianne snuck off to. 

Which was exactly what he did. Steve didn’t miss Bucky, Darcy, and Thor stepping in behind them, subtly covering for their exit, nor did he miss how Julianne’s breathing shifted as the elevator doors closed and they were finally, truly, alone. Now they could finally get everything out on the table, and figure out whatever it was between them. For now he took comfort in Julianne’s smile, the fact that she hadn’t run away from him, and tried to shake off the nerves at the conversation that was to come.


	8. Chapter 8

This elevator only took them to the common area first. Tony had talked about putting in a direct route to Steve’s rooms if he wished, but most of the time, Steve didn’t mind walking to his suite. Now, with Julianne in tow, he pointed out little things along the way, like the open kitchen with more supplies than his own had, or the big screen TV where Darcy liked to organize movie nights for everyone. 

She smiled and gently poked him in the side. “You mean y’all don’t get all of this stuff for your own?” 

Steve shrugged. “I could, if I wanted it. I’ve always been kind of simple like that.” Tugging on her hand, surprised she’d kept it all this time, he gestured to the next door to their right. “We’re here.” 

He put his palm flat on the scanner next to the door, waited for it to recognize him, and the door opened with a soft beep. As he gestured for her to go inside ahead of him, Steve realized then just how sparse his living quarters were. Yes, all of the Avengers had rooms in the Tower, and some, like Steve, chose to stay here year round. Others, like Bruce and Thor, only stayed whenever they were passing through. 

But even still, there was very little to mark the place as Steve’s. The art on the walls were pieces that Tony had chosen to come with the suite when it was built, and aside from the books on the shelves, he kept a clean, tidy home. The only pictures on display were a few on the bookshelf, ones that Darcy had printed and framed for him last Christmas. It also helped that he might not be here for weeks at a time and after his time in the military, he’d learned to pack light. He still smiled, running a hand on his hair as he gestured to the room around them. “This is it.” 

Julianne looked around, setting her purse down on the white couch. “Looks kinda like an upscale hotel, if I’m being honest. A place you can stay, but not a place you live.” 

“Tend not to spend most of my time here,” Steve admitted, “but it’s the closest thing I’ve got to home.” Technically, while he’d had an address in Brooklyn when he went into the ice, that was long gone now and he’d more or less been the property of the military anyway. No such thing as shore leave when Captain America was needed on the front lines. 

To the right of the living area was a small galley kitchen. He could have had Tony make him something bigger, but Steve didn’t cook anything beyond the bare minimum, and the common area was more suited to making better meals. Here he could make a quick cup of coffee or reheat leftovers, and that was when he remembered there was anything to eat in the refrigerator to begin with. To the left was the entrance to his bedroom and the master bath, and Steve headed in that direction next, lingering in the doorway to look over at Julianne. “Make yourself comfortable,” he said. “I can’t guarantee there’s much in the fridge, but we can always order something if there’s something you want.” 

“I don’t think I need anythin’,” she drawled, taking a seat on the couch. “I can get a glass of water if’n I think I need one. Maybe we can talk food once you’re back?” 

“Works for me. Just going to take a quick shower so I don’t smell like the gym,” he said. “I won’t be long.” Which also meant that he didn’t need to spend seven years trying to pick out the perfect thing to wear, grabbing the first pair of jeans and tee he could find. It was one of the shirts that fit snugly on him - too tight, if Darcy’s teasing comments were to be believed - but he also wanted to be comfortable. With that, Steve gave Julianne another smile and closed the bathroom door. 

As promised, he kept his shower short, scrubbing himself clean and trying not to think about the girl waiting in his living room. Steve was anxious, yes, but in a good way, knowing this conversation would either pave their path to a new beginning or provide them with the closure they needed to move on. He’d feel better when it was over, and he hoped for the best outcome. 

He didn’t linger, stepping out of the bathroom to find Julianne on his couch, one leg crossed over the other, looking through his sketchbook. He hadn’t realized that he’d left it out on the small coffee table, though he didn’t mind if she looked. Leaning against the doorway, Steve watched her for a long minute, taking in the way she moved her fingers over the pages, how she seemed to appreciate what he’d done. “See anything you like?” he asked softly, not wanting to startle her. 

“You know, I tried looking at what you were drawing whenever you came in for lunch,” she said, looking up at him. “You always seemed so taken with your work, but I didn’t realize you had so much inspiration.” Julianne turned the page, bringing up another sketch of herself, looking over her shoulder, winking. “These are all of me, aren’t they?” 

“Well, when you put it like that, it makes it sound a lot creepier than I intended it to be.” Steve came over to sit next to her on the couch, making sure not to encroach upon her personal space. “The first time, I never set out with the intention of drawing anyone specific. Your eyes just… captured me. And once I got to know you, I found that I didn’t want to stop.” 

“You have a talent,” Julianne said. “No one’s ever said Captain America can draw.” 

“That’s because they only think they know who Captain America is supposed to be.” He laid a hand over his heart. “I’m Steve Rogers. Stevie, to you. I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to explain that after the raid at the club.” 

She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, glancing down at his sketchbook. “I didn’t really give you a chance to talk, either. I suppose I could have been kinder.” 

“You were in shock,” Steve said. “You could hardly be held responsible for your tone, or what you said when you were so upset.” It didn’t mean it hadn’t hurt, but at least he’d understood where Julianne was coming from. 

“Yeah, but I still said it.” She toyed with the sleeve of her sweater, rubbing the knitted fabric between her fingers. “I went to your exhibit. At the Smithsonian.” 

Steve flinched. “Oh, yeah. That.” He looked over at her, “That wasn’t exactly run by me before they put it up, you know. SHIELD handled most of that, I only got to see it when it opened, and I haven’t been back since.” And that had been surreal, seeing his old uniforms, tributes to those he worked with, the section about how Peggy built SHIELD to become the entity it was today. The hardest part, then, had been seeing how the exhibit spoke about Bucky, for it opened before they knew he’d been taken, brainwashed, and become the Winter Soldier. 

“Was it all true? What they put in there?” 

“Glorified, yeah. But true.” The Smithsonian wouldn’t knowingly put a lie out there and Steve would have called them on it if he spotted something. The part about James Buchanan Barnes had since been modified with Bucky’s approval, so he felt better about that. “I promise you, the stories I have about the war are more real than what you’ll see on a display or hear on a tour.” 

Julianne giggled. “They didn’t say anything about Captain America being an artist. No little display for your work or anything.” 

He shrugged, though he was happy to hear her laughing again, like nothing had changed between them. “To be fair, they never asked. This,” he tapped the sketchbook she still held, “was always meant to be just for me. They did find some of my older sketches - I think Peggy had held onto them, or one of the Howling Commandos, I can’t remember. Sold at auction for a pretty penny in the 1950s. It wasn’t even that good.” Come to think of it, Steve was sure that was the kind of thing that might have ended up in Coulson’s collection eventually, but he wasn’t about to ask Coulson if he could have it back. 

That gentle smile never left her face. Julianne’s eyes studied him, as if waiting to ask him a question. Finally she reached out for him, turning his head in her direction. Not like Steve was really able to look elsewhere when she was looking at him like that, like she was deciding whether or not to slap him or devour him whole. He held his breath, waiting for the best outcome. “So,” she said, “you’re really almost a century old.” 

“Born July 4, 1918. That isn’t a typo, either.” Yes, he got enough comments about how the newest symbol of freedom shared a birthday with America. Yes, it stopped being funny a long time ago. “To be fair, it’s not like I remember most of that. I was under the ice for decades.” 

“I saw that part, too.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “That should have killed you.” 

“In truth, I was expecting it to.” It sounded callous to say, but it was the truth. The only reason why Steve was still here today was because of the serum that made him Captain America. For what purpose, he still wasn’t sure. “To wake up so far into the future, to know how many years I lost, it’s hard on anyone. But I try to remind myself that I’m here for a reason. To do good in the world, even if I’m still trying to figure that out.” He drew a breath, counted to ten in his head, and slowly let it go. “That’s what I wanted to tell you, when I searched for you after the bombing. I wish I could have gotten those words out to you then.” 

Setting his sketchbook aside, Julianne took his hands in both of hers. Steve didn’t pull back, waiting her out, wanting to know what was on her mind. She drifted her fingers over his palms, tracing idle designs. “You’re too good to be true,” she murmured softly. “A man that dedicated to his country, to doing the right thing? And a gentleman to boot? Shouldn’t exist.” 

His first instinct was to remind her that, no, he was real and he was here for her, but it wasn’t his place. Instead he kept silent, moving his thumb over her hand just slightly, as if to remind her that he was still there. “I expected you to run when you found me in that club,” she continued. “That you would toss me aside like some sort of garbage.” His jaw clenched and she finally met his eyes, as if she was anticipating what he was going to say. “I figured that, if you were going to leave me anyway, I might as well make it easier for you.” 

“Jules.” Now that he knew he could use the nickname with her, he never wanted to stop. “So that’s why you quit the restaurant.” 

She nodded, tears in her eyes. “I thought that if you didn’t have a way to reach me, it would be a clean break. So you could move on.” Letting go of one hand, she pulled her phone out of her purse. “Never deleted your number from my phone, though. I thought - well. I hoped you’d keep texting. I read your messages over and over again. When you reached out to me afterward, that was when I knew you were too good for me.” 

“I thought you didn’t want to be with me,” he murmured. “I went back to grab lunch, like I always did, hoping you’d be there. When they told me you left, I assumed that was my answer.” 

“Would you have come to get me?” she whispered. “If Tony hadn’t?” 

Steve wanted to say yes. He wanted to say he’d tear down all of the walls she put up to shut people out and be the one she trusted to have her back. But too many men had overstepped her boundaries before. Steve refused to do the same. “I wanted to honor your wishes. If you didn’t reach out to me, I figured that was an answer all on its own.” 

Julianne wiped at her eyes with her fingers. “How stupid are we?” 

“Not stupid,” he said, squeezing her fingers. “Never stupid. Just - star-crossed, in a way.” Her hands were so small in his, yet he didn’t fear hurting her. Mostly, he just wanted to be near her, already feeling like he was where he was supposed to be. The last time he had this feeling was when he was with Peggy, and he couldn’t help but think that Peggy would have liked Julianne. Both didn’t sacrifice femininity for their strengths, and he’d always admired that. “We’re together now, and that’s what matters. We can figure things out. If you want to.” 

“Figure things out?” Though she was clearly emotional, she still raised an eyebrow at him, that sass he loved shining through. “What were you hoping to figure out, Stevie?” 

He smiled down at her, the tips of his fingers brushing over the inside of her wrist, and enjoying the way it made her shudder. “Whatever this is between us. If that’s friends, or more than friends. What is it that you want, Julianne?”

This time, when her eyes fell on him, they smoldered in the afternoon light coming in from the living room window. Even if he wanted to, Steve couldn’t look away. “And what would you say if I told you I wanted you, Stevie? Not Captain America. But you.” 

A grin broke out over his face. “Then I would ask if I might be able to kiss you.” 

Julianne rolled her eyes, but this time, it was playfully. “What are you waiting for, soldier?” 

Leaning in, Steve cupped one cheek, holding her eyes for a long moment before he pressed his lips to hers. For months now, he’d wondered what Julianne might taste like, something he didn’t let himself imagine too much lest he get himself into trouble. Whatever his brain had come up with paled in comparison to the truth. She was soft in all the right places, like she already knew his body as well as her own, one hand resting over his heart as he deepened the kiss. What had started as something chaste and innocent was becoming more than that, and Steve forced himself to pull back, not wanting to ruin this perfect moment between them. 

She moaned softly, her lips still parted, eyes closed. “You didn’t tell me you could kiss like that.” 

“You never asked.” He stroked her cheek with his thumb, just needing to touch her in order to reassure himself that he wasn’t dreaming. “Glad to know I pass muster, so that way I might be able to do it again someday.” 

She poked him in the stomach. “Of course you can, darlin’. I’d like that.” Julianne fluttered her eyelashes at him, looking up at him. “What happens now for us?” 

“I guess that’s up to you.” Steve looped his other arm around her, a silent invitation for her to climb up into his lap, not that she needed much encouragement. She settled one leg on either side of his hips, hair falling around her shoulders. “We can take this one day at a time and see where it ends up. I know I’d like to be with you, to get to know you better.” He paused, “I’ll still be Captain America too. I’ll have responsibilities, times when I can’t be with you.” 

“I know.” Her brow softened. “But you’ll always come back, right?” 

“That’s the plan, doll.” 

“Then we’ll figure it out.” She slid a hand down his chest, tightening in his tee. “And I think you should kiss me again. And then we can see about ordering dinner, because I don’t think I want to share you with anyone else.” 

He grinned into her mouth, pulling her down into him and rising up to meet her. This was what he’d been looking for and didn’t know it, from that moment he first set foot in the restaurant and saw her there. Whatever came next, they would face it together, just like with any other relationship. Steve Rogers was happy, and that, to him, was worth the world. 

And it was worth fighting to protect. Fighting to keep by his side. Steve wasn’t going to let Julianne go anytime soon. And, it seemed, she felt the same.


End file.
